


Warrick this-guy's-brother Graham

by Sept_Meules



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Celebrity Crush, Doctor Who References, Failed Attempt on Marco Polo, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Sibling Bonding, Something inside me died - freeform, Will's sibling comes to town, Ziplocks, and then it went missing, ao3 prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sept_Meules/pseuds/Sept_Meules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has a brother. And his brother does his vacationing in Will's couch. And he so totally know who's pining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's kinda crack, at the same time not. You could say what the crack part is, and you know it was a filler. 
> 
> As I read over it, it reminds me on Cooper Anderson from Glee. He's like that, but he's more loving. 
> 
> And I don't know if he should be bi.  
> Should he be bi?

That Hannigram prompt. 

Hannibal leads his mongoose out through the door, opening it to the waiting hall. Their session went exceptionally well, if he could say so himself. Will was more at ease with him today rather than last time when Will was skittish and all he could talk about was the killing and the killer's motive. 

The doctor paused when he saw that there was a young man sitting, waiting. A fedora hat on his lap. He lights up when he sees Will and jumps up to stand. 

"You done, dude?"

This makes Will's therapist to raise a brow at the stranger. 

Will nods silently, leaving Hannibal's side and facing him. "What are you doing here? I told you--"

The young man ignores him, offering a courteous hand to Hannibal. "I'm Warrick."

Hannibal shakes it firmly once, "Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Though Will here," he adds, winking at said person "calls me War, cause I hate the name Rick."

Hannibal smiles, understanding preferences. "I'll keep that in mind."

Will steps forward and then faces his therapist, "Thank you, Dr. Lecter." He nudges Warrick on the ribs rather painfully as both of them walk to the exit. "I told you to stay where I left you!" He whispers harshly. 

"I'm not Winston! You can't possibly leave me in a bounce house!" Warrrick argues. 

 

Warrick pushes Will from the door and slipped in before Will could even grab his jacket. They drove back to Wolf Trap just before the last light of sun fell. 

Warrick looks around the living room, then moves to the kitchen, taking in the atmosphere of the house. He instantly sees what's in Will's refridgerator. 

"Will!" He whines, disappointedly. 

"What?" Will responds as he let the dogs back in. 

"We're going grocery shopping tomorrow! Wake me up then!"

Will chuckles, "And if I don't?"

"I sleep until its four pm."

Will goes to the kitchen. "As much as I appreciate you restocking my refridgerator, I don't want this place to be a beer den."

Warrick shakes his head at him dismissively, "I quitted a long time ago. Though I'd buy a cooler for iced coffee and root beer." He slams the refridgerator door close, earning him a glare. He sighs, "I missed you."

Will shrugs, "Well it's been--what? Ten years?"

Warrick wanted to correct him, but decided against it. "Bro hug?" He suggests with a toothy grin. 

Will smiles back, stepping forth and embracing his brother tight. "It's been so long."

"Yeah," Warrick says, "Years of separation."

•••••

Warrick slept on the couch, but woke up on the floor with a blanket of dogs keeping him comfy. 

"Hey?" He manages groggily, "What--"

His brother enters the living room from the kitchen and sees that Warrick is awake. "I think there's a small one in your shirt."

Warrick places a hand on his stomach and hears a yelp from the mould there.   
He pulls his shirt up to his chin, "Well, good morning sunshine." He mutters and pushes the small dog off him gently then stands up. He follows his brother in the kitchen, disposing his shirt on the couch. 

"So, what's for breakfast?" Warrick asks looking over a huge jar of syrup. 

"Waffles."

"From flour?" Warrick asks him cautiously. 

Will looks at him waroly, "What else are you suppose to make waffles from?"

Warrick shrugs, "Wholegrain flour, cake flour, synthetic flour-- the list can go on, Will."

Will hands him a plate of waffles. "I've never heard of synthetic flour." He admits. 

Warrick hums, cutting a slice of waffle and replies rather thickly, "It's frankenfood. They," he swallows, "they change a few genes of the grain before grinding it up to flour. Then BAM! Synthetic flour."

Will was about to start eating when there was a knock on the front door. 

The houseowner turns to his brother hastily, "Make yourself decent." Then moves to answer the door. 

Will heard Warrick run behind him over to the bathroom and close it. 

"Yes?" He answers the door, and was surprise to see, "Bev?"

Bev smiles, "Hi, hope I'm not intruding your breakfast."

Will lets her in, even though she just steps in and Will opens the door wider in the last second. 

Winston stands from his place infront the unlit fireplace, tail wagging, and ran to greet her. 

Bev grins, "Hey Winston!" She says, scratching him behind both ears. 

"Honey, can I borrow your shirt? Thanks." A voice from the bathroom exclaimed. 

Bev looks at Will with an expression he've never seen her give. "Will," she says, her tone as if telling him he caught the plague, "is that a guy?"

Will doesn't respond to her question, instead, "Do you like some waffles?"

Bev follows him to the kitchen, "Will, did you sleep with the guy?" She whispers, excited. 

Will hands her a plate. "No, that would be perpostorous." 

Warrick came in pulling a shirt over himself. He notices Bev. "Oh hello," he says, surprised to see her. 

Will mentally rolls his eyes, 'As if you didn't know there'll be someone.'

Bev has an amused smirk on her face, "Are you Will's boyfriend or something?"

Warrick theatrically stumbles on his words that sounds more like hyperventilating. "What--I--him? I'd never--" He shuts up when Will glares at him from behind Bev. Smoothly, he goes to his waffle and says, "Yep" before eating a piece. 

"War--"

Bev twirls around to face the furios Will and shrieks. "You're homosexual!"

Will wanted to hit Warrick on the head, but Bev is a tidal wave waiting to explode. "No, he's--"

"I can't believe you, William! Going behind my back and dating someone--" she looks over to Warrick "Someone cute!"

Both Warrick and Will gagged at that in shock. 

Warrick drops his fork on his plate, jumping up to stand. "Look, lady, I'm not cute. I'm Will Graham's brother and all, but I am not cute!" He hisses. 

"Oh." Bev manages, disappointed. 

Warrick falls down to his seat, "If Will was homo, he'd be homo for Dr. Danish Therapist."

Bev turns to Will, "You have a brother?!"

"'Dr. Danish Therapist?!" Will quotes incredulously at his brother. 

Warrick looks at his brother and replies with a shrug. 

 

Bev was seated beside Warrick, a cup of coffee in front of her. 

She turns to him, "I'm Bev."

"I'm Warrick. But Will calls me 'bro'." He tells her. 

She turns to Will, "How come you never told us about your family?"

Warrick snorts beside her, "Yeah, Will. Why didn't you?" He drinks his mug. 

He sighs, then raises his voice "I would have if I didn't feel overshadowed by SOMEONE!"

"I never wanted to be in that beauty pageant!" Warrick shouts. 

"I told mom that you hated pageants but she told me you liked crossdressing!" Will argues. 

"Well, /MOM'S/ at fault here so let's just kiss and call it even!" Warrick shouts. 

Will scowls at him like he was the devil passing as a door-to-door salesman. "You keep your lips to yourself."

Warrick raises his hands in defence, zips his lips and drops the key in Bev's coffee, making a 'plop' sound. 

Will gently pours himself a cup. And drinks it. 

Bev chuckles, "So were you two a comedic duo back at home?"

"Yeah," Will breathes. "We fought alot back then which ends like its a sitcom."

Bev couldn't help her giggle, "William and Warrick. It could be a TV show."

Warrick agrees, "Yeah, it could." He fishes out his phone, "I'll tell my agent." He jumps out his seat and escapes to the living room. "Oh hey, Carl!"

"So your brother's an actor?" Bev asks Will. 

He sighs, "Yeah."

"Warrick Graham?"

"No, Warrick Grant." He corrects her. "He called me one night asking me for a name. I said 'Grant' and then he didn't call since then."

Bev frowns, "Sibling rivalry?"

"No," he tells her again, "He fell down a muddy trail while shooting in Louissiana."

Bev smiles, "You're a goofy set of brothers, aren't you?"

Will copies her smile, "We were. I don't know where we got separated."

"Highschool?" She offers. 

He shakes his head, "I remember in high school we'd go to the local family restaurant and do stand-up comedy. We sticked up for each other since then. But know--"

Warrick came back in, "My manager would have to have a word with the network that owns me first. God knows when that will happen." He reclaims his seat next to Bev. He then points his phone to his brother, chuckling as he remembereed something "Did you know that he knows how to belly dance?"

Bev turns to him with her jaw dropped. "You have got to show." She tells him. 

Will narrows his eyes at Warrick, then to Bev he says, "Maybe another time." 

She pouts playfully. 

They end their breakfast with Bev helping Warrick clear the dishes. The owner of the house had gone to feed the dogs. 

Warrick bumps Bev with his hips, "Hey."

"What?" She whispers. 

"I'm not the only person, right?" Bev lets him continue. "That man-- Will's therapist. Will has /at least/ a crush on him."

Bev hums, amused, "What gave you the idea?"

Warrick grins slyly, "My brother isn't the only one bestowed with a gift."

Bev raises a brow at him. So Warrick knows about Will's empathic abilities? That it puts serial killers behind bars? And also the fact that Will is at the verge insanity. If that's so, why does he call it a gift?

"What gift?" She asks, just to be sure. 

He faces her, "His hips!" He lifts his soapy hands and steps away from the sink, "Those Shakira-bestowed-unto-him hips!" He says this while shaking his own. 

Bev couldn't help but stare at it. Since when in the history of men wiggle their hips to prove a point?

"Right?" The question pulls her back to reality. 

She blinks dazily and look at him straight, "Uh right."

"So I know when Will sashays like a diva-- or trying to hide it. And I saw that while he introduced Dr. Therapist."

Bev is having alot of laughs today. "Will sashays?"

"Man-shays. I dunno. But anyway." His serious face was definitely up. "Do you see what I'm seeing? My brother likes someone. And truth be told, Bev, I feel like I'm intruding in his life."

Bev attempts a smile for him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Warrick, if that was true, Will would have told you."

"If-if Will would tell me. It's usually by shouting. And it's the bad kind." 

This grown man she just met over an hour ago had made her feel like she had been best friends with the Graham brothers since, forever. Now she feels pity for him, he just bore out his feelings to her, he trusts her. And she liked it very much when someone trusts her. 

She wipes her had on the cloth near her and hugged him. Warrick was too depressed to be shocked, he wraps his arms around her neck, careful not to get dishwasher soap on her hair. 

Not a moment to linger in their comfortable position, they hear a whimper by their hips. Warrick gently breaks off and smiles down on the dog, a gray Great Dane.

"Hey, Grant."

Bev stares at the dog, to Warrick, then to the dog again, "This is your namesake." She says. 

Warrick nods, "Grant was our great-great-grandfather's name. He was known in the whole of Mississippi for being a crocodile hunter." He turns back to washing the rest in the sink. "I don't know if that's true though. I've tried wrestling a crocodile and it's actually fun." He says easily, though traces of sadness present in his voice. He pauses, "Wait, Will's taking a tad bit long to feed the dogs."

As if in que, Will came back in to join them, though with a Jack Crawford behind him. "Agent Katz," he says in warning tone. 

"Oh shit," she mutters under her breath. She completely forgot to report back to Jack on how Will is. Oh, and she forgot her cellphone in her car. Damn. She wipes her hands once again, "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

Warrick glides his eyes at the overbearing man before finishing the last of the utensils. He washes his hands and moves to introduce himself, "Warrick this-guy's-brother Graham." He jabbed his thumb to Will. "And you'll be?"

"Their boss." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "War?" It was Will himself, "I had my Spidey senses tingling, you okay?"
> 
> Warrick grins, "Do I have news for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deliver

Warrick Graham is popularly known as Warrick Grant. His first name meaning defender of the village or some heroic act like that. And his brother has a similar meaning. 

He pauses. 

When in doubt, go to the internet. 

He taps his phone, and searches both his and Will's name meanings. 

Warrick: Fortress of Teutonic origin. 

Holy crap, what is a Teutonic? Warrick knows as much as Leonardo di Caprio in Titanic. It's close enough to Teutonic. Meh. 

William: Determined protector of French origin. Strong helmet of Teutonic origin. 

What the puke is Teutonic?!

Frustrated, Warrick decided to abduct Will's laptop and load it's history with porn. Not just any porn, /lesbian porn./

"This is for leaving me behind, jerk." He breathes as he waited for the first picture to load. 

He clicks next, not bothering to digest the whole picture. Actually, scratch that, he can't digest it at all. 

Will left with Bev and their boss, who was under scrutiny of debate on why a peasant such as Warrick was in their presence. Being judged by people he just met had been the curse Warrick had to live with. Will may have a similar predicament because he has all the patience in the world, but Warrick does not. He seriously has low self-esteem. He is very insecure, unsure of himself. All those pessimism he hides with overdramatic joy. 

Yes he knows it's childish. Being a child, being ignorant to the world. So what? It helped him. 

Carl, his agent, always revels in scolding Warrick to stop being so immature, even in the midst of others. Warrick just smiles and nods. The others laugh along. Though when others are gone, Carl and Warrick bicker like there's no tomorrow. 

And Warrick has to nurse a bruise or two on set. 

Will. 

His beloved brother. 

Warrick had lied to Beverly Katz. Will and Warrick had never have major fights ever. They love each other so dearly. They stood up for each other. Warrick doesn't know what would happen in the world if Will just suddenly died. 

Warrick may have a mental breakdown. He may have anxiety attacks on set. He may even be suicidal. 

Will is his anchor. Warrick had tried relationships, and still is. But all those went down the drain like pouring water. No one had helped Warrick like Will did. 

Next. 

It may just be hero-worship. 

Next. 

What was he doing with Will's laptop again?

 

Hannibal turned his phone on. It was his lunch break anyway. 

'One voice message' 

He played it, wondering who it may be. And not hoping it was one of his patients. 

"Heeeey, Wiiil." Drawls a vaguely familiar voice. "I'm so totally not cutting myself." Giggle. "And," inhale, "not drunk."

It was Will's brother. What was his name? Erick? Walrick?

"I'll let you in a secret," he says in a hushed tone, "I..." he sobs, "I'm not fat and I'm really happy. B-because Carl tells me I'm fat and it disgusts him." Something falls to the floor with a clink. "I'M NOT FAT! I'M NOT FUCKING FAT!!" Crying. 

Hannibal's mind raced. Should he call Will? Should he call the police?

Beep. "Oh my god, and here he calls."

Hannibal stood up and wore his jacket. Will was probably on a case, the reason why Warrick was there alone.  

"He doesn't know I'm here, Will. He doesn't know about you. And he can't know."

The doctor took his keys and rushed to the parking lot to get to his car, his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. 

 

Warrick could hear a voice from the front door. He've sent the voicemail--what, about an hour ago? Will's in Philadelphia. He grins, or whatever can be deciphered from a hazy one. 

'He's here.'

He crashes on the bathroom floor before he could take in his face. 

 

Hannibal took Will's brother to a clinic. He knew as much that Warrick passed out from bloodloss. The doctor was shocked to see a cutter on the tiled bathroom floor, and also the fact that Warrick's pants were drenched with blood. Out of proffessional curiosity, Hannibal had heard of people slashing their stomachs out of hurt and remorse and all angsty. But to have seen the outcome firsthand is very...new. A male cutter. At first, Hannibal would have thought that females only do this, feeling anorexic. Now he caught Warrick. Upon further inspection, this wasn't his first incident. There were scars only on his abdomen. That was good in a certain degree. He knows it bad that this person had to be Will's brother. Though as Hannibal carried Warrick to his car, the doctor could not bear it but imagine it was Will, suffering from getting cut up by a killer. 

And then his phone buzzed. Ah, an incoming call from Will. 

"Hello?"

"Hello, Dr. Lecter. Uhm, how do I say this-- my brother is not answering his phone--?"

He smiles, "Worry not, Will. He's here with me."

"His phone?"

"He was fishing, he said, and it got washed downstream." Hannibal had to bite down a chuckle when Will grumbled about poor phone industries. 

"Can I please talk to him?"

"He's doing something right now, I'm afraid."

"Oh," came Will's dejected tone, "uhm, thanks anyway." Then the line went dead. 

 

Bev stared at Will, "Your bro doing fine?"

"Yeah." He says pensively. 

"What's the problem then?"

"Dr. Lecter's with him."

Bev's mouth dropped a bit. 

 

The nurse announced that Warrick was awake and he wished to see Hannibal. 

When Warrick saw him, he started with, "When I was young, I always thought I'd be abducted by aliens in a blue box." He shrugs, "Then again, I just woke up from a rerun of Doctor Who."

Hannibal moved to the chair beside Warrick's bed, "I do not see the connection to the situation."

Warrick shrugs, "Mode acting. And I was testing if you were a Whovian."

"'Whovian?'"

Warrick nods, "Yeah. Cute name for calling fans."

Hannibal sits down, "I recieved your voicemail."

Warrick sighs, "I'm really bad at phones." Hannibal could hear Will in the back of his mind breathe a 'You can say that again', but did not voice it out. 

"And I could not help but pick up on a few things."

Warrick looks at the doctor like he just sentenced him to death. 

"About the thought of being fat and about a 'Carl'." Hannibal says carefully. 

Warrick washes a hand over his face, and when he faced his brother's therapist there were tears on his eyes. "Please don't tell him. Don't tell Will. Not about Carl, or-or my cutting. He probably has enough problems of his own, and I don't want to add to the burden."

Hannibal assures him he won't, "Though, talking of Will, he called me just now." Warrick blinks. "I told him a little white lie for you. That you were fishing and your cellphone was lost in the river."

Warrick smiles sadly, "If he believed that, then you should try your hand at acting, Doc."

Hannibal only smiles, 'If you only knew.' "If I may ask, are you younger than Will?"

"Yeah," he points an accusing finger at the doctor, "Though, don't call me cute. I am not cute. I am only lovable."

He nods, "Coming back to the matter at hand, is this Carl-fellow a nuisance to you?"

Warrick shakes his head reluctantly, "N-no. He's--"

"Warrick." He says in warning. 

"He calls me fat and disgusting. And makes me work in the gymn until I pass out on the floor." He confesses like a child confessing about breaking the vase. 

"How else does he abuse you?"

Warrick breathes, "When I go to his place, he ties me up and make me d-do things."

"Sexually?"

"Y-yes." He stammered. Tears started streaming down his face, "Please don't tell Will." He cried. "Don't tell Will."

 

Will got back home at midnight, refusing to spend several hours more in Philadelphia. Not that he has something against Philly. 

He found Warrick already snoozing in the couch. Winston was on the floor, he looks up when his Human came through the door. 

He peeked at Warrick before deciding to leave and get rest himself. 

 

The next day, Warrick took Will out to town to restock his brother's fridge. 

Will turned to Warrick, "I don't understand."

"What?" Warrick says as he twisted the stirring wheel. 

"You make more than me, but you don't have your own car." Will points out. 

Warrick scoffs, "One's status cannot be judged by his possessions."

Will rolls his eyes, "Is that a Chinese proverb?"

Warrick grins, "No, don't think so, made it up." They ease in a parking space. "Maybe actually, I don't have my own driver's license." He cackled and easily ran inside the grocery, Will hot on his heels. 

 

"Rootbeer, babe?" Warrick asked Will who was lagging behind him.

"No?" 

Warrick shrugs and puts one can in the trolley. 

"How about vitamin water?" Will asks from behind.

Warrick snaps his head to him, "Will, vitawater is a no-no."

"Why-why?" Will quips with a grin.

"Vitawater is seriously just all kinds of synthetic sugar dissolved in water."

Will raised a brow, "And how'd you know?"

Warrick looks away from him, sheepish smile gracing his boyish face, "It's not like I infiltrated Coca-Cola or anything." It was definitely not Coca-Cola.

Will was exasperated, "Did you get imprisoned?"

"No. There are times investigative journalism can help one slip from the law." Warrick tells him, scowling at the army of vitamin water as they passed it.

Will stares at his brother's back. His own experience with investigative journalists had been-- and still is-- chaotic. Namely Freddie Lounds. Will had been humiliated in Tattlecrime. Humiliated with Freddie Lound's fabrication of words. She's been trouble ever since she attempted stepping into Will's world. She constantly adds much more burden unto Will's shoulders than she is worth. Jack must have read her posts, and later hammers Will with a vague hint of opinionated ideals of one Fredericka Lounds. And then it affects Will, like loosing your mind does you favours.

"What's your idea about fruits, then?" He asks, diverting his mind from prodding down a dark road of his own mind.

"Eat lots, Graham." Warrick says, "Eat lots."

 

Going back home, Will took the driver's seat, refusing his brother's plead to drive.

Warrick opened the rootbeer with a fizz. "Celebrity crush." He stated.

"Gwyneth Paltrow."

"Pepper Potts, nice choice, brother." He drank, "Lady Gaga."

Will turns to him as if he just unleashed an Egyptian curse, "Dude, are you serious?"

Warrick shrugs, "Gotta love those mental people."

"Shakira, then."

"That guy in Supernatural, uhm..." he tapped his hand on his thigh, "Uhm, Jensen Ackles."

"I don't understand your categories."

"Just anyone famous."

"Cameron Diaz."

"Damn, I'm sensing a pattern here, Will. Ke$ha."

"Jennifer Lawrence."

"Hannibal Lecter."

"'Hannibal Lecter?'" 

Warrick grins at his brother widly, "I knew you have a crush on your therapist!"

Will glares at him, "I just echoed what you said!"

Warrick shakes his head, "Nope, I won't hear your explanation! How about--oh! I like Benedict Cumberbatch."

Will scoffs, "I still don't understand your categories."

 

Warrick asked Beverly Katz out to lunch, a friendly lunch, with a conversation that went like:

Bev put her phone to loud speaker, seeing as the boys had taken a coffee break out of the lab.

"Hey babe, lunch?" Came Warrick's voice.

She chuckled at how her newly found friend was dripping with pompous casualty. "Sure."

"That is because I know no restaurants here."

"No prob, War, I know some."

"Better be a good one, hun."

She snorts, stitching up the corpse on the table. "Where are you now?"

"Swimming pool, you wouldn't believe who's in here too."

"Who, 'Bruce Willis'?" She jokes.

"Ha ha, pussy-Katz. No, Dr. Lecter! Say hi, Doc!" There was some muffled sound. "Yeah, no hi. He's doing butterfly strokes. So what time do I get you? I hope I can use my GPS." 

"After five. Baltimore FBI Headquarters."

"Ooh, I'd want to look like James Bond when I come get you."

"Please don't." She says exasperatedly. "I don't like wearing fancy clothes."

"All right, I'd wear a cardigan. Bye."

"See you later."

She moves to hit 'end call' but stopped when she saw Brian and Jimmy staring at her. "What?"

"You never said you had a boyfriend."

She grinned to herself, /I know a secret you don't know./ She taunts in her mind.

 

"You're going where?" Warrick asking loudly from the shower. Dr. Lecter's just in the other stall.

"Away for the week."

"To...hunt?"

Hannibal smiles slyly in his stall, pausing momentarily. "Yes, exactly."

"To hunt what?"

"To hunt for a special night."

Warrick turns his shower off and stands in front Hannibal's stall. "Hey, Doc. Can I ask you a question?"

Hannibal was a bit startled that Will's brother suddenly appeared behind him. He stopped massaging his scalp and faced the young man. "What is it?"

"Do you like my brother?"

Hannibal paused and stared at Warrick. At how blunt and straightforward his question is.

Does he like Will? He believes that Will is his friend and Hannibal would always want to help him. But in Warrick's question it asks Hannibal in the 'more than just a friend' perspective. Does he like Will in that sort of way? Hannibal does want to feed Will all of his prized dishes. How luxurious their tastes, their varying texture, to make Will smile. 

Hannibal smiles at Warrick, "Yes, I do like your brother."

Warrick understands that Will is a beautiful creature, and Hannibal respects that another had seen that in Will. Warrick isn't a rival, though. Neither is he a hurdle for Hannibal to stumble on. He knew, from the very start, that Warrick had given his blessing.

"Good, because he likes you too."

 

Warrick stared into his phone as he waited out for the red light. It's been 48 hours since he called Carl. And knowing Carl, Warrick was bound to be punished when he gets back.

And then, his phone rang.

He hit the 'loud speaker' button, and pressed the gas pedal easily.

The number's unknown. So who could be calling him?

"Hello?"

"Is this Warrick Grant?" Asks a female voice.

He furrowed his brows. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, but your agent died in a freak accident."

Warrick stomped on the brakes. "What?!" But it came out breathless. He slowly drove to the side. "What do you mean-- Carl's dead?"

"Yes."

"So..."

"You'll be transferred under another agent immediately."

He gaped. "Like now?"

"Under Mishael Thea."

"What?" Came his greatest shock. "What?!"

Mishael Thea is the oldest agent and PR agent in their company. And one of the best. How did he land such spot? Whatever did he do to deserve it?

"When will you be coming back?" Asked the girl.

"Two days from now."

"All right, once you meet up with Miss Mishael you know you'll be fully booked." 

"I know," he remembers he was just given a bad news and a good news, but the bad news is really serious, "Thank you." Then he ended the call.

He stared out of the rented car window. This visit to Will's had, in so much ways, give more colour to Warrick's life. In LA, where Carl would torture him. He always thought of killing himself, but those thoughts always end up to Will. 

Warrick doesn't want to leave Will. His cool older brother.

It was Will whom he thought of whenever he did his auditions, his demos, his callbacks. Warrick adores Will so much that he thought Will was a superhero, and still believes it. Why, isn't he? Will fights crime by finding those menacing serial killers. By that he saves a lot of lives.

He remembered when he slipped on that indie movie in Louissianna, their homestate, he somehow hallucinated a 13 year old Will pulling him out of the water. But when he resurfaced, his dear brother wasn't there. He was only greeted by the director's nasal voice, "Broke any bones?"

Coming here to Wolf Trap was seriously an escape. No one in the company knew that Warrick Grant has a brother. He never said it, he did that because he wanted to protect Will.

His phone rang once again.

"Hello?"

"War?" It was Will himself, "I had my Spidey senses tingling, you okay?"

Warrick grins, "Do I have news for you."

 

Hannibal Lecter drank his wine glass, in his ears was Pachebel's Canon. He's now on board back to Baltimore. His cooler is in a 'fragile' box, along with his knives. And he's got the best dishes in mind and ordered the best wine to complement his main course. And maybe Warrick can help him on preparations.

 

"Really?" Warrick asks, drawling the vowels. "I don't know, Doc. Is your food real? Because I have this paranoia about synthetics."

Hannibal couldn't help but smile at that, "I assure you that the food I will be serving is authentic." He hopes that Warrick had at least rubbed that trait along to his brother. Authenticity is really a must in Hannibal Lecter's book.

"A celebration for your new agent."

Hannibal has a feeling that Warrick must be shifting his eyes, "Hmm, I dunno. But I /do/ know is that I'm not really your guest of honour."

"You /are/ the guest of honour, Warrick."

"So, I'm your alibi so you can have Will over?"

He laughs, "To put it simply, yes."

"Just the three of us?"

"You can have another friend."

"Beverly Katz?"

"Of course." 

"Alright-y then, when do you need me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wheezes, "My brother and him are together."

The last of that Hannigram prompt.

"I'm only coming because you told me to." Beverly tells him as she watched him pack up his duffle bag.

Warrick hums, "Is a cardigan fancy enough for Dr. Danish Therapist?"

Bev snorts and corrects him, "He's Lithuanian."

Warrick wore his cardigan over his polo, and then faced Bev, "Should I fold the sleeves?"

Bev gives him a wierd look.

He nods, agreeing with her, "You're right. I look more dignified without the folds." He turns his head to mirror, and back to her, "No, seriously, should I fold them?"

Bev rolled her eyes, "Do what you want, War."

 

Hannibal was preparing the things to be cooked when his sharp hearing picked up on a car parking just outside his house. 

Soon enough, he heard Warrick knock, "Dr. Lecter! Came as promised."

Hannibal was about to move from his position when he heard "Oh. Okay, the door's open!"

Hannibal wasn't one for not sticking to eitquettes, but let's this one slide. "I'm in the kitchen!" He shouts for Warrick. 

He doesn't hear Warrick's footsteps for a minute or so, but then, "Marco!"

Hannibal does know what to answer so he keeps quiet for a while pondering on what to answer until Warrick comes in pouting, "Why didn't you say 'Polo'?" He asks pitifully.

"I didn't know." Hamnibal tells him.

Warrick turns to the direction of the front door, "You know you shouldn't leave the door unlocked, we're not in Canada. Plus, here are other killers too, Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal smiles knowingly down on the garnish at hand. 

"But you wouldn't worry about that, would you? As you're like the alpha wolf here?" Hannibal looks at him expectedly, and Warrick gives a exasperated look, "I know stuff too that I shouldn't know."

 

When Will came with Bev, both in acceptable formal attire, Hannibal greets them. And informs them that dinner is ready. 

"I helped with the paring, the marinading," Warrick winks at Bev, "I know my way in the kitchen, babe. And then I helped put stuff in Ziplocks and put them in the fridge." 

Bev smiles at his childishness. 

Warrick turns to Will, "Remember Mama wouldn't even let me in the kitchen?"

Will scoffs, "That was because you nearly destroyed the toaster."

"One time that happened and I was banned for life!" 

Will turns to Hannibal, "I hope he wasn't too much trouble, Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal dismisses it, "No, he wasn't much trouble at all. Just a word about knives."

Warrick frowns around his wine glass. "You two are planning something against me."

"Not, really." Will tells hims warily.

Bev agrees with a hum, "We simply really like making you flail like a fish."

Warrick gives her a betrayed look. 

 

They had a another bottle of wine in Hannibal's drawing room talking about anything and everything. And Warrick reaccounted to Hannibal how Bev met him. 

Bev turns to Will, who was seated on a loveseat to Hannibal's right who took on a setteé. "As I remember correctly, Will, you know how to dance."

Will frowns at her, "I _knew_ how to dance." He corrects her. 

Bev still grins at him.

"Well," Warrick states, "As everyone knows, I will soon be packed busy in schedule, and I know gloating will be lessened from a whole Monday to three minutes." He stands up and offers an arm to Bev, "Shall we, milady?"

She takes it and they both bid the doctor and his patient goodnight.

Hannibal chuckles, "Is this an act to get us to talk to each other in private,"

Will huffs, "He does know we keep appointments to do that." He drinks the last of his wine, "I'll help you with the dishes."

 

Warrick shifts his eyes from looking out the window. Outside, the trees and bushes and Nature whizzes by as the car sped. 

Mishael Thea looks up from her iPad, above her reading glasses. "I think you're getting too invested into these roles, Warrick."

Warrick lets his chin slip from his palm and hit his forehead on the glass window with a 'thump'. And it has /got/ to hurt. 

"So I'll have to get you a therapist."

Warrick closes his eyes. "It had better not be Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

Mishael raises a thin eye brow, "And why not?"

He wheezes, "My brother and him are together."

"I thought you said you're brother's straight?"

"Did I? When?"

"When I met you." She says, then with a pause, "Two years ago."

Warrick curses, "I'm so sorry. I wanted to impress you."

Mishael smirks, "Well if you keep investing into these roles you wouldn't need to impress me. Although, I'm also starting to worry about your person-hood. I don't think you're brother would like to spend Thanksgiving with a broken brother."

"Oh yeah? That wouldn't surprise the both of us." He mutters as they pass the marker "Welcome to Vermont".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a sequel! 
> 
> Why? Because in the end Warrick is too damn depressing. He became Black Swan or something. 
> 
> Tell me should I make the sequel dark? Yes or no? Like there will be killers and blood and the Joker.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm throwing this out to the world because I clearly cannot think of what can happen next. 
> 
> Bev forgot why she was there, so did I. But there's waffles!
> 
> So please comment or something if you'd like a bit more.and along that please put in some suggestions to feed the plot bunnies. They've gone into hibernation you see.


End file.
